"No matter what we do, what we say or how we feel... we need not believe any of it"
- harrisonsaito6
- Jan 10, 2024
- 1 min read
The dirt of life soils the pure. As is the way.
Like so, so many, I have been in hiding.
In our well built homes, to the city scape, to the nature beyond.
To you and I, my reflection of a dull dim, only transmitting the false dazzles of society.
Even till I sought to understand.
The faint rustling of the trees on a warm, windless Wednesday.
The will to live from passing ants, becoming louder, or clearer, than the passing sound of planes and electric cars.
My possessions, my voice, my hair, my heavy mind and heart.
'I' disappeared slowly.
And I reappeared.
In all my eternal naivety, I still wonder...
Is this what they call a soul?
The long path of choices may tell.
HYS
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